Her First Punch
by SnowySilver
Summary: A one-shot concerning Kagome's mother, who finally gets her chance to vent a little of her anger. Her venting target: Kagome's dad. Set in the very beginning of the series, when Kagome's down the well and no one knows what's happened to her.


Title: Her First Punch

Author: SnowySilver

Summary: A one-shot concerning Kagome's mother, who finally gets her chance to vent a little of her anger. Her venting target: Kagome's dad.

Disclaimer: ABCDEFG, Inu don't belong to me, please don't sue, or I'll be, poor and so unhappy! Now I know my ABCs, next time won't you sing with me!

* * *

She'd never actually punched anyone before.

Really, she was a more or less mild-mannered woman. Polite, often smiling, she made friends easily. Oh, sure, she got mad at times, but she always tried to talk it out. That, or hide it.

Like, say, when the guy you've been in love with for twenty years blind-sides you by telling you he "may have feelings for" another woman, you'd pretty much be in the clear for getting angry in a serious way, right?

Well, Ai didn't. She graciously agreed to take some time off their relationship - Kagome, Souta, Daddy needs to go away for a little while - so he could work out his "conflicted feelings." She saved the tears for long, late night, burning-hot sessions in the shower.

Really, it's not healthy to pretend to be calm when you find out said guy lied about the conflicting part of his feelings. He didn't even tell her anything was going on with the other woman - he left that part to Ai's friend, who just happened to see them exiting the hotel she owned ("It's called discretion, people," said friend later ranted to her husband, quite certain the cretin had known whose hotel he'd checked into).

But Ai did pretend. Oh, she did what any good advice columnist would suggest: write passionate, angry, tearful letters, never to be sent (they made for some good fire fuel, though). But still she kept her nice, pleasant, cheerful mask on, and the tears this time were only for her father to see, because by then she'd moved back to the shrine that had been her childhood home - Souta, Kagome honey, Daddy and I need some time apart right now - her daughter had been thirteen then, and sobbed her eyes out, ranting and raving as teenagers are wont to do.

Forced to deal with her eldest child's anger and her darling boy's sad questioning, Ai did get mad. But still, she never showed it. Her smile, sweet as ever, now hid rather vivid imaginings of fire and the dire effects of certain diseases. She knew it wasn't really healthy to plot revenge in that way, and she'd never go through with any of it, but it was still nice to imagine. And none of her thoughts were half as bad as her dad's ideas as to what should be done to "lying, creeping, two-timing bags of scum" such as her not-quite-former husband.

But when Kagome had gone missing, and Ai was so worried, so frightened, that she found herself wanting,_needing_ support from the one person who'd proven to be the worst support-giver of all time, that's when it snapped. Right as she was dialing that oh-so-familiar number, that's when there was a knock at the door.

Guess who it was.

Him. Him, in all his handsomeness, looking crisp and clean and proper in his suit, all business. She felt horribly inadequate in last night's clothes and with hair messy beyond belief.

Then she saw _her_.

On Ai's property (or her father's, let's not get picky), The Bimbo - as the hotel-owning friend had named her - stood, nonchalant, looking around in a way that suggested the grounds had been inspected and found seriously wanting.

Ai grew angry.

She greeted them politely, pointedly neglecting to invite them inside. He produced a neatly-stapled bunch of papers.

Ai grew angrier.

Divorce papers, he explained. He figured it was really time; after all, hadn't it been two whole years? And, oh-so-graciously, he informed her that she could have custody of the kids, like they'd arranged earlier. He'd get visits, of course; it's only natural. He supposed living on a shrine would be okay for them, though it wasn't the best place. Oh, don't worry, she'd get it fixed up sooner or later, he assured her, but could she please not put so much stock into the religion and the legends and all that stuff? Because he didn't think that was very good for them and -

That was as far as he got before Ai's fist interrupted him.

The Bimbo, to Ai's extreme pleasure, shrieked. Shrieking? Now there's something Ai never would have done. Her almost-former husband fell on his rear. She hoped it hurt.

With a Glare Of Death, she slammed the door, opening it a few moments later in order to throw signed divorce papers at the form of her ex, who was rubbing his head. The Bimbo helped him up, muttered something about homicidal freaks, and the happy couple left.

Ai smiled. She turned around, closed the door, and laughed.

She'd never actually punched anyone before.

But boy, did it feel good.

* * *

Written: 6/05/04, sorta 6/06/04, 'cause it was midnight when I finished

Posted: 6/06/04

Name changed due to my annoyance: 1/5/05

A/N: Just a little late-night, caffeine-induced one-shot. I always love imagining women standing up to the bad guys - even if the bad guy used to be the love of their life. Anyhow, I'm still a bit on the scorned love track like I was when I wrote "A Sibling's Tears," though the story's way different and the real-life circumstances have little in common with this fic (but you can NOT imagine how much I wish my sis would punch Mr. Words- Not-To-Be-Said-In-Polite-Circles).

Gaah! Sorry. I'm prone to late-night rants. Well, the point is all reviews will be worshiped and both criticism and praise will be respected fully, as I'm still trying to improve. Many, many thanks to CocaCola43 for beta-ing again!

Oh, and this has nothing to do with "Who She Was," if the mom's name confused you. I was just too lazy to pick out another, haha.


End file.
